


And Touch My Soul Again

by alphayamergo



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, F/M, Fluff, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21777634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphayamergo/pseuds/alphayamergo
Summary: Eleanor Shellstrop was, always had been, and always would be, an Arizonan trashbag. Anyone who said otherwise only ever had to look at her daemon.
Relationships: Chidi Anagonye/Eleanor Shellstrop
Comments: 23
Kudos: 193
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	And Touch My Soul Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theshipstorulethemallwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipstorulethemallwrites/gifts).



Eleanor Shellstrop was, always had been, and always would be, an Arizonan trashbag. Anyone who said otherwise only ever had to look at her daemon.

Michael _loved_ daemons. It just made his task so much easier. He barely even needed to go through the humans’ files to get to know them. Humans were squishy and vulnerable and most embarrassingly of all, they kept their soul _on the outside._ Honestly, who had even designed them?

Still. As he flicked through file after file, looking for exactly the right humans to put in his brand new neighbourhood, he kept looking at the daemons. They just said a certain something that couldn’t be found in the files. So when he found the conniving raccoon and twitchy rabbit – well, he had exactly the right humans to pair with the twittering rainbow lorikeet and self-obsessed lion.

_Perfect._

-

Amara settled late. Chidi’s parents had always said that it was still perfectly normal for a daemon to settle late. His father had even given him a presentation about famous people in history whose daemon had settled late. But Chidi and Amara had seen the worried glances shared between them, and knew they were telling white lies.

“I could pretend,” Amara used to whisper to him late at night in the safety of their dark bedroom.

“But what if you pretend in a form that you don’t settle in?” Chidi had replied. Then everyone would know anyway.

She had settled into a rabbit a few months after her turned sixteen. His family was relieved, but they hadn’t seemed particularly surprised by Amara’s form. Maybe it had been the years long search for the truth of himself that had pointed Chidi to philosophy. Maybe it was that which had him wiping his hands nervously on the sides of his trousers, his heart jackhammering in his chest.

He took a deep breath and knocked. Michael and Eleanor turned around, and Chidi smiled, something in his chest having eased.

“I’m Chidi Anagonye and this is Amara,” he said, gesturing to the white rabbit at his side. “And… you’re my soulmate.”

Eleanor’s raccoon lifted itself on to its hindlegs to better inspect them as Eleanor’s mouth dropped open quickly before she smiled. “Bring it in, man!” As she hugged him, she added, “This is Jax.” Jax and Amara circled each other on the floor, trying to inspect every last inch of each other.

 _This is it,_ thought Chidi. No more uncertainties. No more stomach-aches. Just him, Eleanor, their daemons and all of eternity stretching out before them. Until, at least –

“We’re not supposed to be here,” said Eleanor. _Oh no,_ thought Chidi. The stomach-ache was back.

-

Jax had settled at around the same time everybody’s daemon settled, except with Eleanor and Jax, it had been because they had just become emancipated from their parents. “We don’t owe you anything, you don’t owe us anything,” they had told their parents.

It had set the course for Eleanor’s life. She had a literal _raccoon_ for a daemon (not that she didn’t love Jax, of course she did, but _come on_ – the symbolism was a little too on the nose) and he had only settled when they stopped relying on anybody else. It was for the best, really.

All in all, it meant the idea of soulmates didn’t sit well with Eleanor or with Jax. It was them against the world; always had been, always would be. When Chidi left them alone for the first time, Jax said, “Aren’t soulmates’ daemons meant to match or something?”

“That’s what it’s like in movies,” agreed Eleanor, still staring at the door (which was covered with a picture of a clown, come the fork on). “Maybe that’s part of the fork up.”

Jax snuggled closer to Eleanor and said, “They seem nice.”

Eleanor leant her cheek against the top of Jax’s head, his grey fur soft against her skin – softer than it had ever been in life. She had meant what she’d said about people caring that Chidi had died. No one would have cared about Eleanor’s death, not really. Even her friends were probably making a forking t-shirt about getting run over by a truck advertising erectile dysfunction.

“That bench Tahani wasn’t,” said Eleanor, because if you couldn’t hide from uncomfortable feelings with your literal soul, when could you? Jax sniffed at her disdainfully and she smiled, eyes finally sliding shut.

-

“So there are many different ways at looking at daemons and their forms,” said Chidi, up at the blackboard. Eleanor traded a look with Jax before she went back to her notebook. “Science, theology, philosophy – there are hundreds of different disciplines that have been looking to explain why daemons settle into certain forms but not others. Some scientists believe that it’s determined by environment – that is, someone living in, say, medieval Europe couldn’t have had a kangaroo daemon because they wouldn’t have known kangaroos existed. Some political scientists believe that daemons’ forms are decided by the human’s place in a socially-constructed hierarchy – Marx, for instance, insisted that there was a clear divide between working class daemons and upper-class daemons -”

“Like Tahani’s lion?” interjected Eleanor. Jax let out an amused snort.

Chidi squirmed slightly. “Well, I don’t totally agree with Marx, but I suppose that’s the idea, yes.”

“And I got a raccoon, like a true Arizonan trash bag,” said Eleanor. She held out a fist to Jax, who curled his left paw and bumped it.

Chidi frowned. “Eleanor, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“What, believe that getting a trash panda makes me a trash bag?” asked Eleanor. “No, dude. It’s not Jax that makes me a trash bag. I settled first; _I_ made _Jax_ into the trash panda.”

Chidi left the blackboard and came to lean down in front of her, so that they were at eye-level. “Anthropologists, scientists and philosophers have been trying for all of history to discover whether daemons mean the same thing in every culture, if a Native American having a mouse as a daemon means the same as an Indonesian person, or a Russian person, or whoever.” He clasped his hands together. “The fact is that no one has ever known for sure if there is just one thing that your daemon says about you. Raccoons can have a bad reputation, but they’re also known for being incredibly intelligent, and for being tricksters.”

“A trickster,” said Eleanor as flippantly as she could, like she didn’t have a lump forming in her throat. “That pretty much sums me up.”

“But that’s the thing: not all tricksters are _bad_ ,” said Chidi. “Some are, yes. Some trickster stories come from marginalised peoples who need a trickster story because there’s no way their heroes could win through conventional means.” Eleanor opened her mouth to make another joke, but Chidi plunged on. “Not every positive trickster is a folk hero of marginalised people, though. Greek mythology, for example, has Odysseus, a king who became the favourite of the goddess Athena for his cunning and trickery.”

“Not to burst your bubble or anything, but most of those examples don’t actually have anything to do with a raccoon daemon,” pointed out Eleanor.

“Maybe not exactly – though Odysseus had a fox daemon in the Odyssey, and foxes have almost as bad a reputation as raccoons do – but you need to remember that daemons don’t inherently pigeonhole you into one box. Take Amara,” said Chidi. Amara hopped between the two of them for Chidi to begin his lecture, looking distinctly worried as she watched Eleanor and Jax. “In some cultures, rabbits are considered tricksters. In some, they’re considered evil, and in others, they’re considered a symbol of peace. Many consider rabbits to be a symbol of fear or cowardice. Amara settling as a rabbit can’t mean I’m all of those things.”

Eleanor furrowed her eyebrows and asked, “Did you swallow a textbook on the meaning of daemon forms or something?”

“We were trying to decide what to settle as – stop trying to change the subject!” exclaimed Chidi. “The point is, Eleanor, I don’t think that you’re a trash bag, or that Jax is a trash panda. You’ve been helping Michael find out who’s causing trouble in the neighbourhood even though you know it’s you, you’ve helped Jason and Tahani and for all that you’ve complained, you have put genuine effort into improving yourself over the past few months.”

Eleanor’s eyes were suspiciously wet. “I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to rabbits,” she mumbled.

“No one’s allergic to daemons, Eleanor,” said Chidi, but his voice was fond. “And even if you were, this is the Good Place. There are no more allergies here.”

-

“Chidi! Eleanor!” exclaimed Michael, leaning in through their open door. “My favourite humans – but don’t tell the others.” He said the last part in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Hey, Michael,” said Eleanor. She leaned down so Jax could scamper up into her arms. “You need more help with the sinkhole?”

“Oh, no, no,” said Michael, shaking his head and waving his hands. “Just wanted to let you know Tahani’s hosting another party tonight. It’s Bamajan’s birthday. He’s asked that you all dress up as your soulmate’s daemon!”

Eleanor glanced across the room at Amara. If this was earth and she was alive, she would absolutely be looking for a Mean Girls-style rabbit costume right about now, but since this was the Good Place, she really needed to find something a little more suitable for Tahani’s tastes.

“I’m sure you both know each other’s daemon very well by now,” continued Michael. When both Chidi and Eleanor failed to answer, he looked between them, face creasing with worry. “You do, don’t you? Everyone else I’ve spoken to -”

“Of _course_ we do,” broke in Eleanor quickly. “Yeah, Amara and I cuddle on the couch all the time, and Chidi’s really warmed up to my trash panda here.” She shifted Jax in her arms slightly.

“Oh! Oh, that’s good,” said Michael. “Well, I suppose you two just don’t want to – what’s the word? – oh, right. You don’t want to engage in too much PDA.” His face lit up as he said the term like it was Christmas morning.

“I think we engage in just the right amount of PDA,” attempted Chidi valiantly.

“Yeah, man,” said Eleanor. “It’s kind of weird that you haven’t seen us touch each other’s daemons before, because, you know, we just do it all the time -”

“It’s almost like we’ve swapped daemons,” added Chidi.

“Well, if you’re certain,” said Michael, uncertainly. “Well, I better go tell Tahani the final numbers, then. Catch you later, alligators.” He grinned at the saying and ducked back out the door. Eleanor counted to ten before she turned to Chidi.

“What the _fork_ are we going to do about that?” asked Eleanor.

“I don’t know!” exclaimed Chidi. “It’s not – it’s not ethically permissible to touch another person’s daemon without their true, uncoerced consent -”

“Enough about ethics!” said Eleanor. “You’re going to have to touch Jax sometime. In public – in front of Michael, preferably. There, I’ve given you my consent.”

“But it’s coerced consent,” protested Chidi. “You would never have given me permission if you didn’t feel you had to escape the Bad Place.”

Eleanor let Jax slide to the ground and placed her hands on her hips. “Dude, if it’s you touching my daemon or going to _literal hell_ , I am absolutely, one hundred per cent, giving you my blessing to touch Jax as much as you want.”

“Amen,” added Jax fervently.

“No, I can’t,” said Chidi. “I just – I can’t.” He took a deep breath and said, “You can touch Amara.”

“What the hell, dude?” demanded Eleanor. “You can’t tell me that you won’t touch Jax because it’s morally wrong and then tell me to touch _your_ daemon. If I’ve been coerced, then you’ve been coerced.”

Chidi sunk on to the couch, his head in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Eleanor went and sat beside him. She slid one hand up his arm so that he moved his hand away from his face then took it. “I’m sorry, too,” she said. “But if it helps – out of anyone in my life, _ever_ , you’re the one I’m most comfortable with touching my daemon.”

“Really?” asked Chidi, turning to look at her.

“Yeah,” said Eleanor. “I mean, you’re trying to make me a better person, which means you’re basically seeing into my soul anyway, so – touching my daemon’s not too big a deal, I guess.”

“Yes, it is,” said Chidi.

Eleanor sighed. “Yes, it is. But it’s still true.”

-

Real Eleanor (and Eleanor hated that even she had started to call her Real Eleanor in her head) had a rabbit daemon, because of forking course she did. “The movies did always say that soulmates had matching daemons,” whispered Jax.

“Shut up, Jax,” said Eleanor automatically. There were plenty of soulmates here that didn’t have matching daemons. Tahani and Jason didn’t – okay, that was a bad example. Jason and _Janet_ did, but to be fair, they’d only had matching soulmates since Janet had been rebooted and made herself a lorikeet daemon to match Jason’s. When Eleanor had asked Janet 1.0 about a daemon, she had made an ocelot, because apparently they were objectively the cutest animals in the universe. But Nina and Bart hadn’t had twin daemons – Bart had a basset hound and Nina had a dachshund _aaaaand_ that was still a bad example, because they both had _dogs_ and Eleanor and Chidi’s daemons didn’t even come from the same _family._

Whatever. She’d always known there was a fork up. She’d always known Chidi couldn’t _really_ be _her_ soulmate, just that fictional version of Eleanor that Michael thought she was – except now that fictional version wasn’t fictional, and she was here, and she was forking perfect for Chidi and it just wasn’t _fair,_ okay?

“I miss Amara,” murmured Jax, wistfully.

Chidi was the only person in her life – not life, existence, whatever – whom she had ever even considered allowing to touch Jax. The only person she had been tempted to trust her soul with. It wasn’t like her life back on earth had been empty: she’d had parents, friends, boyfriends. None of them had ever let her touch their daemons, and she had never let them touch Jax. It had taken dying for her to find someone she trusted like that, and he wasn’t even hers.

“I miss them, too, buddy,” said Eleanor, burying her fingers in Jax’s fur. “But it’s always been like this, remember? You and me against the world.”

“Yeah, and that led to us dying without anyone giving a shirt,” said Jax. “We liked Chidi and Amara. We wanted to keep them.”

“But we _can’t_ ,” snapped Eleanor. “So just stop, okay? Let’s just focus on being better so we can actually deserve to stay here.” _And watch the guy I_ wanted _to be my soulmate spend an eternity with someone else. Great job there, Shellstrop._ Still, it was that or hell. She’d take her chances with awkward encounters with an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t like she’d never experienced _that_ before. Not that Chidi had actually been her boyfriend. But it had been close. It had been so forking close.

It’d be easier if Real Eleanor wasn’t so forking nice. She and Chidi were ludicrously right for each other. They wouldn’t argue like Chidi and Eleanor had. In fact, Eleanor was pretty sure that Real Eleanor was physically incapable of yelling at anyone. It was difficult not to be happy for them, even if she did have to step back.

And there were still other joys in her life, anyway. She watched Janet and Jason get married. She braided extensions into Tahani’s hair as Jax tried to wrestle a very indulgent Amir. Hell, she even got to know her name-twin. There were other things in the Good Place, things that were just as much worth staying for as Chidi was.

Jax still stared at Amara mournfully whenever they crossed paths, though.

-

 _“_ This _is the Bad Place!”_

_“What the fork is a Chidi?”_

_“This is your soulmate, Vicky!”_

_“Hey, hey. It’s okay. We’ll find each other again.”_

_-_

Eleanor watched the tape, because of course she did.

Jax curled up next to her as the image took shape on the screen. Her and Chidi, curled up together on the bed, talking to each other in quiet voices, their expressions soft and peaceful. She could see Amara and Jax cuddling together at the end of the bed, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, but I need to tell you something. I love you. And you don’t need to respond because I know that you have trouble saying what you feel - ” started Eleanor.

“I love you,” interrupted Chidi, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Eleanor couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Chidi speak so decisively. Maybe when he was waxing poetics about Kant? At the foot of the bed, Amara put her head on top of Jax’s. Then, “Is that a camera?”

“Mindy, you pervert!” yelled the on-screen Eleanor, as Chidi grabbed a shirt just off screen and pulled it over his head. While Eleanor was busy wrapping the blanket around herself, Chidi scooped up Amara before hesitating next to Jax. “Time to go, huh?” asked Eleanor, softly.

Chidi nodded. “Tahani and Jason -”

“Yeah, I know,” said Eleanor, a gentle but sad smile crossing her face. “Take Jax while I get dressed.”

The actual Eleanor’s breath caught as she watched Chidi pick up Jax without anymore hesitation. Jax went still beneath her hands. “He -” whispered Jax.

“I know,” said Eleanor.

“Nobody’s ever done that before,” said Jax.

“He has,” said Eleanor. “Maybe more than once. Maybe…” _Maybe he will again._ Eleanor tried not to think it, but it was there in her brain before she could stop it, unable to be dislodged. Were they soulmates? Definitely not, considering the whole thing was just set up by Michael to torture them – but out of anybody to share her soul with, Chidi was the one she’d choose. Always, always Chidi.

-

_“This is your soulmate, Bambajan!”_

_“Oh, god, this is because of the almond milk, isn’t it? I knew it was bad for the environment -”_

_“To Team Cockroach!”_

_“Hot diggity dog! Oh no…”_

_“I want to learn how to be a better person, and I think it has to be you that teaches me.”_

_“Jearimy bearimy, baby.”_

-

When Chidi came to, eight hundred and two reboots plus one life and another reboot and three hundred years worth of memories sloshing around in his head, he needed something of a moment. Amara needed no such moment, like there had been some part of her that had remembered all along. The moment they opened their eyes, Amara leapt for Jax, bowling him over in her excitement. She nuzzled her nose into his neck, her short, stubby tail thumping the ground furiously with excitement. Jax circled his little arms around her, snuggling against her.

“Hey, Janet?” asked Chidi. “Can I have my note back?”

“If you know that you wrote a note, then you know what it says,” said Janet. She wasn’t protesting.

“I d, but I’d still like to see it again, please,” explained Chidi. “I think it might be some of the best writing I’ve ever done.”

Amara and Jax were still cuddling on the floor, slotted together like they would never be separated again, close and comfortable in a way that Amara never quite was with Simone’s beaver. Chidi unfolded the note that he had written a year ago, knowing that Eleanor was watching his glasses.

_There is no answer, but Eleanor is the answer._

Amara let out a happy sigh, and Eleanor smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuletide! I hope you enjoy the daemon au and that you have some happy holidays, whatever you celebrate.
> 
> For anyone who didn't catch them all:  
> Eleanor's daemon is a raccoon named Jax.  
> Chidi's daemon is a rabbit named Amara.  
> Tahani's daemon is a lion named Amir (a daemon which would be much more impressive if Kamillah hadn't somehow managed to get a gryphon as her daemon).  
> Jason has a rainbow lorikeet, which I never actually came up with a name for (suggestions are welcome!). This one was inspired by my own rainbow lorikeet, who used to dance to rock music we played for her until she threw up with excitement. I can't think of anything more Jason than that.  
> Janet and Michael don't have daemons, but whenever she's asked about it, Janet makes herself a daemon to make the humans more comfortable. It's whatever she deems cutest in that particular reboot, though as the reboots wear on, she finds herself choosing a crane more and more.  
> Also the title comes from the Gang of Youth's song 'The Heart is a Muscle'.


End file.
